


How We All See the Faker

by turps



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, One sided, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard knows he should say something. But he doesn't. He can't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How We All See the Faker

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Kevin Smith Smodcast where Mikey talked about dressing in too small clothes when going out, and Gerard remarked he looked like a hustler.
> 
> Thank you to themoononastick for the excellent beta.
> 
> Written for trope_bingo and the prompt, drunkfic.

Gerard wants to speak up.

To say: you can’t.... You’re not allowed.... You need to stay home.

~*~*~*~

“Sweet t-shirt.” Gerard lies back on his bed, stretched out and trying for relaxed, hiding the tension that takes hold as Mikey appears in the doorway and then steps into the room. “You look like....”

“A hustler, I know.” Mikey grins, wide and bright as he fusses with his hair, causing his t-shirt to ride up even further. “One with a fucking great t-shirt.”

“The greatest,” Gerard agrees, watching Mikey carefully walk past the piles of clothes that litter the floor -- too carefully, the walk of someone who has already used cheap vodka to take off the edge. “Do you know where you’re going?”

Mikey shrugs and stops in front of the dresser, leaning in so he can see himself in the grime-smeared mirror. “Somewhere. I’ll see when I get there.”

Which means he’ll see who he’ll end up with. Which group he’ll gravitate toward, and who will welcome him and ignore that he’s so obviously under-aged. Gerard keeps watching, chest tight with words he won’t say -- the ones he should say if he were a good brother.

Mikey tugs at his pants, revealing more of his hipbones, satisfaction obvious as he takes a step to the side. “You should come.”

“Next time,” Gerard says, and he’s not lying. Not really. Sometimes there is a next time, when Gerard can push back his feelings to where they should be.

A big brother only. Protective, sure. But jealous? Never.

“Okay.” Mikey grins and turns in a loose circle, all gangly limbs and newly shaped body, cheekbones apparent and a fresh crop of zits broken out at the side of his mouth. He laughs, staggering a little as he lists toward the bed and Gerard, says, “Don’t wait up.”

“I won’t,” Gerard says, reaching out, his fingers brushing against Mikey’s arm, a safe touch of goodbye.

Another grin, another glance in the mirror and Mikey’s gone for the night, only the faint scent of hairspray lingering to say he was there.

Alone, Gerard picks up the homework he’s supposed to be doing, his gaze unfocused as he settles in for the night, waiting for Mikey to come home.

~*~*~*~

Gerard wants to say: what are you doing? Do you know what you look like?

He wants to say: stop.

~*~*~*~

It’s not a new thing that Gerard loves Mikey; he always has done.

It’s just, now, that love has changed It’s still as strong, Mikey’s forever Gerard’s best friend, but now there’s added complications, ones that make Gerard feel like the worst kind of pervert.

The way he looks at Mikey and wants to touch always. The curve of his hip, the dip of his collar bones with skin newly pulled tight. Gerard wants to map all these new changes, to press close and breath Mikey in. And he could, Gerard knows Mikey would let him.

It’s why Gerard always pulls back.

Not that it’s easy. It can’t be when Gerard’s dreams lack control, when all he can do is go along for the ride and lose himself in a reality where it’s okay to be with Mikey. Where they can make out for hours, able to touch and explore each other’s bodies. And his dreams always, always end with sex.

Each time, Gerard hates himself when he wakes up, come on his blankets and belly, hypersensitive as he rolls over and tries to forget. Not that he can, the dreams are too vivid, too real, and Gerard misses when all he had to deal with was nightmares and the skin-stripping monsters and hell hounds that patrolled his sleep.

Gerard would rather have them than these dreams of Mikey, especially as they’re dreams that bleed into real life.

Gerard tries to resist. He’s got his own friends, his own life, but it’s one that’s twisted and tangled with Mikey’s. If Gerard tries to pull back, Mikey will follow, always there, always talking, a constant presence with his love and support.

Even when Gerard’s at school Mikey keeps calling, exchanging texts and IMs until Mikey may as well be in the next room. Sometimes Gerard thinks that he is, times when, even though many miles separate them, Gerard can close his eyes and feel Mikey’s presence.

It’s why it’s so hard to stay strong, because, to Gerard, thinking of Mikey is as instinctive as taking a new breath.

But, Gerard does try when it comes down to sex, to maintain that last line, even though, already it’s nearly broken completely. It’s why he closes his eyes now, sketchbook pushed off to one side and jeans crumpled down to his knees, his mental focus on anyone but Mikey.

Uncomfortable, Gerard tugs his belt buckle from under his leg and lies on his side, face pushed up hard to his pillow as he takes a deep breath, tasting damp fabric as he pictures the girl he likes in his class. The one with red hair and a short pleated skirt, the slogans on her t-shirt stretched over her chest. Gerard imagines how she must smell, the taste of her lip gloss as he pulls her in for a kiss, focus only on her as he gropes for the hand lotion he’s left open on the side of the bed.

One handed, Gerard coats his palm, haste making him squeeze too hard so lotion slides over his wrist and onto the already stiff covers. Throwing the bottle to one side, Gerard’s breath hitches as he curls his fingers around his dick, tightening them until the pressure is just right.

It won’t take long. Gerard’s an expert on getting himself off, and he easily slips into a rhythm, hips and hand moving together, matching the squeak of his bed. Gerard thinks about red hair and blue eyes, about nails painted purple and a black bra showing under a t-shirt. He thinks about messy mousy hair and bitten down nails, about the scratch of dry patches on a bottom lip, about jeans pushed down low and a t-shirt that’s too tight.

He thinks about Mikey. Always about Mikey, and imagines his expression as Gerard holds him down, his eyes dark and bright, fluttering closed as Gerard keeps thrusting, fitting together perfectly like always.

About Mikey saying Gerard’s name, his voice rough, and breathing deep, pulling in air as he gasps, telling Gerard more, giving himself over completely.

And it’s enough to tip Gerard over the edge, it always is, Gerard crying out as he spills over his hand and collapses, boneless and spent

~*~*~*~

Gerard wants to tell Mikey to wear a coat, one that zips from down by his knees up to his chin, hiding his body from those who keep looking.

He wants to say: it’s okay to be you. You’re perfect, you always have been.

~*~*~*~

Mikey comes home late, more morning than night.

Half asleep, Gerard startles and rubs at his eyes, listening as someone walks down the stairs to the basement. Already Gerard knows that it’s Mikey, instantly identifiable by the way that he’s walking, the way he pauses for all of a moment before stepping into the room.

And instantly Gerard is fully awake.

This early the basement is full of dark shadows, but there’s enough light that Gerard can see Mikey moving, how the bravado and confidence of before is stripped back, exposing the person Mikey tries to keep hidden.

The one that’s too young to go to the city alone to search for people. Where sure, he’s found a place to fit in, but with groups and friendships formed on an artificial image and too much to drink.

“Gee,” Mikey says softly, easily navigating the room as he drops down on the bed next to Gerard. “Gee, are you awake?”

“Yeah,” Gerard says, rolling so he can give Mikey room. “Did you have fun?”

“Mostly,” Mikey says, bent forward as he unfastens his laces. “I met up with some people. It was good.”

Gerard can hear the truth in the answer, even if the the ‘mostly’ leaves him unsettled, yet another thing he should protest and ask for more details. But Gerard won’t. Mikey’s here, he’s safe, and however uneasy it makes him at times, Gerard knows Mikey needs his time in the city.

Almost as much as Gerard needs Mikey.

“You should have come,” Mikey says, boots kicks off and glasses put safe under the bed as he swings up his legs and lies down close to Gerard. Bodies pressed close and face to face he adds, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Gerard says, and puts his arm around Mikey, holding on and watching as Mikey slips into sleep.


End file.
